Crashing waves
by Ajalea
Summary: Sanji finds an old letter written by someone from his past. At that moment, he goes back in time for a bit, remembering stuff. Light ZoSan feels, but that's avoidable, if you don't like it :) Review, please? (This is also a birthday present for one of my best friends, you know who you are :p) Happy birthday :3 (also, title may be changed any of these days :D )


Zoro woke up. 'Why're you clinging to me like that?' He grunted softly.

'Nothing really,' Sanji shrugged. He had come up to the marimo only a few moments ago, while the man was asleep. Just a few minutes earlier he found something while going through his old stuff. A letter, written by his mother, one that triggered a flood of memories coming into Sanji's head.

})i({-})i({

He saw his mother, on his seventh birthday, and she pulled him on her lap to give him a present. The boy looked happy, as his mother was actually too frail to carry him, only on his birthday she did that.

Her long blond hair hid most of her pale face, almost hiding her beautiful sea-blue eyes. Sanji looked like his mother, he had the same big blue eyes and his bright blond hair, slightly wavy. His father was a fisherman, almost always gone fishing, with a tanned skin but also blond hair, though much darker than his wife's and son's. His eyes were brown, resembling the earth as Sanji's mother's resembled the seas. Slowly, she patted his head, with a small smile on her face.

'Are you ready for your present, Sanji?' Her voice was sweet, soft like her hair.

The boy only nodded, smiling brightly.

His father came in, holding a small cake in one hand and in the other a small wrapped present. Sanji's mouth closed, but he still beamed with joy. The man of the house put the cake on the dinner table and handed the gift over to his wife. She held it in her hands for a few seconds and then gave it to their birthday boy. Sanji grabbed the present with both hands, carefully as it wasn't hard and he was afraid he'd break something. With much care, he unwrapped the hidden and held it in his hands. He looked up, to his mother, questioning. She smiled apologetically, touching his hair with her hands.

'Sorry, Sanji, that I couldn't do any more than this.'

And then Sanji understood. He saw that what was in his hands was made by his mother, and that she probably couldn't do anything more than this, even if she wanted to. So he smiled, his eyes a little sad, but he hid that pretty well.

His mother answered his smale and they hugged for a moment. Sanji felt no strength in his mother's arms. He hugged her tighter. She laughed for a bit. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

The boy buried his face in her chest while his father produced a sound. Embarrassed, Sanji let go. He turned to his father. Neither said a thing. A few moments passed and finally, Sanji nodded, saying his thanks to him. The man nodded back.

Again, Sanji looked at the opened present, now between him and his mother, because he had let go off it when he hugged the person he was sitting on. It was green, fluffy, just a ball around the size of his hand, with a lot of green sticking out. At last, Sanji said something. 'What is it?' He sounded hesitant, like he didn't want to say it, and looked from one parent to another. Almost unhearable, his father sighed. He answered with a deep voice. 'It is a mossball, also called marimo.' It was said patiently.

Sanji blinked a few times. 'Marimo...' He said thoughtfully and then he smiled brightly. 'I like it.'

His mother put a lock of hair behind her ear, showing almost the same smile as her son. After that, Sanji got off his mother's lap and sat down at the table with his parents. All three ate a part of the small cake, his father a big piece, just as Sanji and the only woman present only a small one.

It was a calm birthday for Sanji, celebrated only with his parents, but a week later, his whole world collapsed.

His mother wouldn't wake up, no matter how hard Sanji tried. It was already day, so the boy knew his father was already gone fishing. The man fished long days, to increase their small income a little, though that mostly didn't work. At least he tried and that was enough to the family he left behind every day. Panicking, Sanji got dressed quickly, and went out to get the doctor. Arriving home, with someone to help, the boy could only sit in a corner, waiting for the doctor to speak. Said man took his time, examining the woman lying in bed. After a while, he let Sanji go to his mother. She was repositioned, now on her back, her face like she was sleeping peacefully. The doctor, who was away for a short moment, approached Sanji and put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a little comfort.

'She's sleeping for now, but I'm afraid she'll be sleeping like this from now on, son.' He patted the boy's shoulder. Sanji looked at him. 'You mean like Sleeping Beauty?' His eyes were big with worry.

The doctor shook his head, looking sad. He sat down on his knees in front of Sanji. 'No, I'm sorry, but your mother will never wake up again.' The look in his eyes got even sadder. Sanji understood the situation. He knew it was coming, his parents never said anything about it, but he had noticed his mother had been sick for a very long time. But that didn't matter anymore. He faced his mother, reaching out his hands. Slowly he touched her cheeks, as if looking for life. She felt warm, but showed no reaction. The doctor put him on a chair, almost without the boy noticing, and left the room.

Sanji didn't know for how long he sat there, but suddenly, the sun had already set and a door closed. He looked up, realizing his father was home, but he couldn't find the courage to face him. After all, this had happened when Sanji was the man in the house. The door of the bedroom Sanji and his mother were in made a noise and something moved. It really was his father. He looked shocked. Finally the tears came to Sanji's eyes. Saying no words, his father walked up to his wife, who was barely breathing. He sat down on the bed, crossing his legs. Clearing his throat, he began to speak. 'Sanji...' His voice was hoarse. 'Say goodbye to your mother.' It sounded resolute. It was as kind as you could get it. Sanji got the message and got closer to his mother, getting off the chair. He leaned over and kissed her forehead as she had done countless times with him. His father acted like he didn't see anything, to give a little privacy, which was caused a slight relief for the boy.

Sanji started whispering to his ill mother. 'Mommy, do you hear me? I think you do. Mommy, I love you, you know that, right? Even though I know you'll be waiting for daddy,' he looked at his father for a moment, 'and me in heaven. I'll miss you, mommy.' Sanji finished, giving his mother another kiss on her forehead. Now it was his father's turn.

He only touched his wife's hand with his own and closed his eyes for a second or two. With that, he had said goodbye.

About an hour later, Sanji noticed a difference in his mother's breathing. He looked at the man opposite of him and saw he had seen the same thing. Both grabbed a hand, both knowing the end was near. They stayed with the dying till her last moments.

Only in the deep silence, Sanji felt the marimo he still held in his free hand.

Life became relatively normal again after a few months. Sanji read a lot of books, something he did for a long time now, ever since his mothers taught him how to read. Particularly one that told of a great ocean, somewhere in this world, was of his interest. His father still fished every day, but when he was at home, he rarely spoke.

One day, his father asked Sanji to pack a few things to go on a trip. Excited, the 8-year-old didn't know what to pack, as it was his first trip, so he just grabbed his favorite book, a few pieces of clothing and some food that was lying around the kitchen. After he finished packing, his father led him to his boat. Sanji had never seen it before and only a few seconds later, his world turned black.

Sanji woke up, and he saw he was on his father's boat. The man himself wasn't here and Sanji looked around, noticing that all he could see was water. In the boat was his bag, but he didn't want to look at it. For days he drifted on the ocean without seeing any land. He knew he had all right to be angry at his father, but wasn't. He only missed his parents, his bed and the green marimo plushie he got on his birthday, something that hadn't parted with him ever since. That day seemed like a dream to him.

Three days had passed before he finally dared to open the bag, he was getting hungry. In his bag, Sanji found a note saying his father would wait for him side by side with his mother and he knew what that meant.

A few days later he was found by another ship, locating a restaurant, called The Orbit. As it turned out, Sanji had gotten hit so hard by his father, he had left a deep wound, resulting in a scar. To hide it, the boy covered the mark of abuse with his hair.

Only after years and years, Sanji noticed the scar was gone, disappeared with his growth.

})i({-})i({

But today, today the boy now a man had found a secret compartment in his old favorite book, containing a letter from his mother, telling him of how much she and his father loved him. She'd probably anticipated what her husband had done. She wished for his happiness, telling him she would be praying he would find someone to spend the rest of his life with. The letter contained more, but Sanji couldn't read past the first of six pages of text, neatly folded and perfectly fitted into the book. The last thing he saw was a last note after his mother saying farewell, which said that she hoped he would still be in possession of the marimo she made for him, although knowing it wouldn't last very long and she didn't know when he would read her letter. Something he didn't saw was the other hidden compartment, hiding a few strings of green. A remembrance from the old times, happy times.

Sanji had gone straight up to Zoro, who was sleeping, to seek comfort. No one on the Sunny knew his story from before The Orbit, but he was ready to tell the swordsman now. Latter asked him again what was wrong and Sanji answered he'd tell him later, hugging Zoro harder than he intended at first. Zoro returned the hug evenly strong, knowing something was wrong. In this position, both men fell asleep pretty quickly, as Zoro was sleepy and Sanji felt safe. He was put at ease with the realisation Zoro's hair felt like the plushie he was given, but also lost, so long ago.

He liked it.


End file.
